Joseph and I are pleased to announce our Rockin' Chair Cowboys manuscript was accepted by our publisher. The following are excerpts from the evaluation team of OP.
"You have a great collection of stories and recipes here. Everything about it is nicely done. You have done a great job capturing your memories and committing them to paper. (This is not an easy feat.) Even though this is a personal narrative and your family is going to cherish this from generation to generation, you have written it in a way that many will enjoy and benefit from reading it."
She went on to say: "Your narrative voice is very familiar and friendly and you have a way with words. It is obvious that you have done your homework and put much thought and preparation into your work. Your book is well written. I wish more people would take the time to write their stories down like you have. I am ...sure it will be embraced by many. We can learn so much from reading the stories of other’s lives.
WHAT A GREAT BOOK YOU HAVE HERE."
Lisa C.
Manuscript Evaluation Team,
Outskirts Press
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
SPRING FORWARD- Excerpt from ROCKIN' CHAIR COWBOYS
Awakened by the words, “Hey, are you ready for service?” I turn to look at my clock; it reads 10:00 a.m.
“What do you mean it’s only ten,” I said, thinking my smart-chip clock would spring forward.
Needless to say, my smart clock didn’t work properly, for whatever reason, so now I sit. I lost one hour of my day, never to be reclaimed. Modern technology! Who needs it?
I’m sure everyone has experienced this at one time or another. How does one address this issue? I spent time reflecting on days of my childhood, when times were uncomplicated, and smart clocks were not even a figment of the imagination.
My parents would rise with the ringing of an old wind-up clock that had lulled them to sleep with its steady ticking. The smell of Mama cooking breakfast would awaken my sister and me. If that failed, Daddy would urge us girls out of bed.
After breakfast, Daddy would go off to work in the rice field. Mama usually cleaned up the kitchen, and my sister and I took to the outdoors. It was there that we used our imaginations to dream up ways to pass the sweltering summer days in the country.
We would play house, where we’d take a stick and draw a house floor plan in the dirt. With our dolls and Daddy’s coon hunting dog, we’d pretend to be Mothers, as we took care of our rubber-faced dolls. The dolls had molded hair and their eyes would open and close as you tilted them back and forth.
Our neighbor from across the road would occasionally come over to play with ‘his girls’ as he called us. This fully-grown giant of a man stood about four feet tall and walked with the use of crutches. He was the victim of diabetes and had lost his legs to that disease.
My sister and I enjoyed his company, and I know we were company to him, as well. He would let us pull him around in our little red flyer wagon, until Mama called us to dinner, the noon meal as country folk called it. Uncle Bill would make his way home, and we would come inside for another fabulous meal Mama had prepared.
Yes, life was uncomplicated, unhurried and we never lost an hour of it. We made each hour count and lived each one to the fullest.
V. M. Wolter
“What do you mean it’s only ten,” I said, thinking my smart-chip clock would spring forward.
Needless to say, my smart clock didn’t work properly, for whatever reason, so now I sit. I lost one hour of my day, never to be reclaimed. Modern technology! Who needs it?
I’m sure everyone has experienced this at one time or another. How does one address this issue? I spent time reflecting on days of my childhood, when times were uncomplicated, and smart clocks were not even a figment of the imagination.
My parents would rise with the ringing of an old wind-up clock that had lulled them to sleep with its steady ticking. The smell of Mama cooking breakfast would awaken my sister and me. If that failed, Daddy would urge us girls out of bed.
After breakfast, Daddy would go off to work in the rice field. Mama usually cleaned up the kitchen, and my sister and I took to the outdoors. It was there that we used our imaginations to dream up ways to pass the sweltering summer days in the country.
We would play house, where we’d take a stick and draw a house floor plan in the dirt. With our dolls and Daddy’s coon hunting dog, we’d pretend to be Mothers, as we took care of our rubber-faced dolls. The dolls had molded hair and their eyes would open and close as you tilted them back and forth.
Our neighbor from across the road would occasionally come over to play with ‘his girls’ as he called us. This fully-grown giant of a man stood about four feet tall and walked with the use of crutches. He was the victim of diabetes and had lost his legs to that disease.
My sister and I enjoyed his company, and I know we were company to him, as well. He would let us pull him around in our little red flyer wagon, until Mama called us to dinner, the noon meal as country folk called it. Uncle Bill would make his way home, and we would come inside for another fabulous meal Mama had prepared.
Yes, life was uncomplicated, unhurried and we never lost an hour of it. We made each hour count and lived each one to the fullest.
V. M. Wolter
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